Here is Gone
by She-Ra Princess of Power
Summary: I'm not the one who broke you, I'm not the one you should fear... F/T/E triangle :)
1. Default Chapter

This isn't really a prologue, but more of an explanation of this story.

Several months ago, I began writing this story, only to have another person copy it word for word and splice it into their own story. I had worked my ass off on this story, and that was shocking, to say the least. Well, since THAT who debacle, I haven't worked on this story. But I began to reread it today, and decided that it was time to put the grudge aside, and just start working on it again, LOL!

This is how the story was originally intended to be read. I really hope that y'all enjoy it. And if you feel the urge, R/R!!! It makes the heart grow stronger!

Much Love, Jenn


	2. Ethan's Shadow

Part One

****

Fox

I've always known that my brother is a complete and utter idiot. I think I first realized this when I was six and he was 10, and he had spent nearly three months putting together this really boring model sailboat. I mean, it didn't even have a moving sail or rudders or anything. It was supposed to just sit there and look nice or something, I guess. But, anyway, I decided that the sailboat needed to go on its maiden voyage. 

In the duck pond near the edge of our families' property.

It sank.

When Ethan found out, he didn't start screaming at me, or try to beat me up, like most normal ten-year-old boys would.

Instead, he ran to our mommy dearest, and started bawling his eyes out.

Friggin' wimp.

And when a tearful Ethan dragged our mother to Aunt Sheridan's room, where I was hiding (and having fun taking a pair of scissors to a few of her new ball gowns), I laughed. 

Hard. 

In his pudgy face.

I was six years old, and had just come to the realization that my brother was a loser.

It was a liberating experience, in truth, because until that moment, I had always looked up to my big brother.

But after that...

I pitied him.

Ha Ha.

After that day, I always marveled at how things came so easily to such a moron.

He graduated from Harvard Law, with honors. (I still wonder how much Grandfather had to pay the school for _that_ amazing feat).

Our family- not to mention the **_WORLD_**- adored him. (I guess when you are the heir apparent to the Crane Family, the first born son, being loved is a given. But you have to work for that love if you were conceived one night during a drunken rendezvous that was brushed aside the next morning as a terrible mistake.)

He always had a steady stream of women wanting to be near him. (How? Why? I guess women like to be with brainless pushovers or something. Who the hell knows?) But he did the honorable thing, and picked only one at a time.

He was the Prince. And I was the... _scullery maid_. Well, probably lower than the scullery maid. Maybe the dust particles that scullery maids push around, trying to make invisible.

Like I cared.

Well, anyway, back to Ethan the Perfect.

Growing up, Ethan had chosen to be with Gwen(ch?) Hotchkiss. Every conversation, every Society Magazine, it was 'Ethan and Gwen' this, or 'Gwen and Ethan' that.

I called them 'Gwethan'. 'Gweebie' for short.

It pissed everyone off.

Imagine that.

And then, one day not too long ago, it suddenly became 'Ethan and Theresa'.

But never 'Theresa and Ethan'.

That should have probably been clue numero uno that things weren't going to work out between them.

Theresa was never considered an equal in the partnership. Not by my parents, not by her family. Not by Ethan or Theresa themselves.

They all viewed Theresa as being less than Ethan.

Maybe it their age difference.

Maybe it was the fact that Theresa's mother was our families' housekeeper.

Most likely, though, it was because Theresa was poor. Didn't come from a 'respectable' family... meaning a family with money.

For whatever reason, Theresa was never viewed as anything other than Ethan's fiancé. The girl who broke up Gwethan.

Ethan's ideal of perfection, placed upon a pedestal, only to be looked upon, never to be known.

She was dreamy, daring, gorgeous, and talented.

But best of all, she was innocent. Untouched. Untainted.

Or so everyone thought.

One big mistake changed that view.

When Theresa fell from that pedestal, the life that Ethan and Theresa had built for themselves was destroyed.

Ethan was in love with Theresa.

Theresa was in love with Ethan.

And then Ethan proceeded to do the most idiotic thing of his entire life.

He let Theresa go.

"She schemed," he said to anyone who would listen, when asked of their demise.

"She plotted," he whined to mother and Gwen, only adding fuel to their hatred towards Theresa.

"She lied," his head whispered to his heart every night in the dark, when sleep couldn't come.

But Ethan failed to see the truth in Theresa's so called 'manipulations'.

That everything she did, she did out of love for **HIM**. 

What a luxury it must be, to be able to so easily toss aside the love someone has given you because that person failed to meet your standards.

I wish that I had that luxury.

But, I'm not Ethan, the first born son.

I'm Nicholas, the alcohol induced accident.

My entire life, I've known that my big brother was an idiot. I've stood in the shadows, unnoticed, observing the Prince in action. 

Ethan never wanted for anything. Should he want, it was his in a second.

Ethan never had to try. There was no reason for him to.

Ethan never had to be something he wasn't, because he was Ethan Crane, heir to the Crane Dynasty.

Standing in those shadows, I've felt a range of emotions towards Ethan, from joy when he would do something completely stupid, to anger when no one would notice his stupidity. The most prevalent feeling, though, has always been pity. Yeah, I'll say it again: I pity Ethan!

What a life it must be, to not take any risks, and not have any fun.

I especially pity the dumb ass for being born without a brain.

That must truly suck.

But the one feeling Ethan has never provoked from me is jealousy. I'm sure there have been pangs of longing, easily brushed aside as I whipped out a wad of cash and chipped away at my families' fortune. I've always seen my brother for the person he really is. I've looked passed the gleaming smile, the Harvard education. I've seen through the façade.

Without the last name Crane, there is not much there.

I can honestly say that I have never wanted to be Ethan, or envied what he had.

That is, until earlier this evening.

At dinner.

When Theresa walked into the dining room, her hair falling in soft curls around her shoulders. Her pale pink dress clinging to every curve on her body. Her magnificent eyes lighting up at the mere sight of Ethan, then falling lifeless as they turned on Gwen.

Her weak smile of acceptance as she settled into the seat beside my father, her husband.

As soon as she stepped into the room, every nerve my body went on overdrive, something that is becoming habitual, yet something extremely easy to play off, to not think about until bedtime, when counting sheep is no longer working.

But then I offered to pour her a glass of wine, which she graciously accepted. Leaning forward to hand me her glass, a single curl fell upon her face, which she laughingly brushed aside. And when the glass met between her hand and mine, our fingers collided, softly, just a whisper of a graze. Her huge brown eyes caught mine, bringing a smirking smile to her face.

At that second, I knew.

I'm not infatuated with Theresa Lopez- Fitzgerald- Crane.

I'm in love.

And for the first time in my life, there is nothing more that I want than to be my brother.

Because Theresa is in love with him.

hr

Theresa Crane sighed wearily as she placed her son into his crib.

Living in the Crane Mansion was beginning to take its toll on her. Every day, it was becoming more and more difficult to remember who she truly was.

Theresa Lopez- Fitzgerald.

Dreamer.

Believer.

"But, it's worth it, _Mi Hijo_," she whispered lovingly to Ethan Martin, bringing her hand down and tracing the shape of his face. A huge smile erupted on his face, and a chubby finger latched onto hers. "It's worth it for you."

"_All through the night, I'll be standing over you   
"All through the night, I'll be watching over you   
"And through bad dreams, I'll be right there baby   
"Holding your hand, telling you everything is all right   
"And when you cry, I'll be right there   
"Telling you you were never anything less than beautiful   
"So don't you worry   
"I'm your Angel standing by." _

"Your voice alone could make the Angels in Heaven envious."

Fox Crane's smooth whisper nearly caused Theresa to jump out of her skin.

"Fox! You scared me!" Theresa said, turning to face her visitor. An easy grin played upon his lips.

Letting his eyes travel the span of her body, Fox let out an inaudible groan.

God, she was gorgeous.

"I'd never intentionally frighten you, Theresa," he murmured, his eyes traveling back up. "Never."

"Oh..."

Her voice trailed off, the single syllable tinged with nervousness.

Fox finally raised his eyes to meet hers, and as brown met brown, his smile slowly vanished.

Her eyes were the window to her soul.

And for the first time since meeting her, her soul wasn't enraptured purely by his brother.

Fox inhaled deeply, breaking the trance. Theresa dropped her eyes to floor, her teeth gnawing lightly on her lower lip. 

"I was just singing Ethan a lullaby; it never fails to put him to sleep."

She turned back to the crib and smiled lightly.

Tonight seemed to be the exception. A loud gurgle of happiness exploded from the infant.

"Never fails, eh?" Fox questioned with laughter in his voice. He stepped towards the crib and stopped beside Theresa, resting his hand along the top of the crib. As his fingers lightly clenched over the cool mahogany, her pinky finger gently brushed against his.

The air in the bedroom was suddenly thick.

"Well, um..." Fox stuttered, lifting his hand away from hers, dragging it through his tousled blonde hair.

He sounded like a moron. 

__

Take control, Crane, take control...

Theresa lifted her face to his, concern apparent across her features. Fox cleared his throat, and smiled, stepping away from her caring gaze.

"Well, I was just coming by to see how you're doing. You looked a little down at dinner tonight."

Theresa sighed and sat down in the rocking chair beside Ethan's crib. Relief spread through Fox's veins as she did this, and he chose to take a seat on her bed... across the room. 

"Was it really that noticeable?"

Her voice defeated.

"Not to the naked eye, Theresa. But to someone who knows you..."

Theresa laughed bitterly and rubbed her eyes.

"Great. I'm sure that Ethan and Gwen are sharing a _wonderful_ laugh over my sadness right now. I really need to work on concealing my emotions more."

Fox's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Theresa, why would you _want_ to conceal your emotions? So you can be like my mother, the Ice Queen?"

He stood up and strode over to where she sat, and kneeled before her. Slowly, he lifted his hands to her face, forcing her eyes to meet his once again.

Screw trying to keep his distance. 

She needed him right now, more than ever before.

"Fox, I... I don't know, you know? It's just, the more I want Ethan, and the more I try to make him see that we're meant to be, the further he draws away! And I've tried hiding how I feel, I've tried everything that I can think of, but nothing has worked! And I just, I just want to stop hurting!"

Her voice cracking, Theresa yanked her head from his grasp, and swiped at a tear that had broken free. Before she could stop it, a loud wail escaped from her lips.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay. Just let it all out." 

Fox rose onto his knees, and wrapped his arms around Theresa's trembling body.

God, how he loved this woman.

Everything about her... her smile, her laughter, even her tears, Fox loved. 

Every little quirk, every little perfection... they were pieces to a puzzle, and the puzzle was slowly coming together.

Theresa's arms snaked around his neck, drawing him closer. He inhaled her scent, his eyes closing with sheer pleasure.

Theresa was the only woman Fox had ever met that he enjoyed just having in his presence. 

But all, too soon, Theresa pulled away, leaving him craving more of her nearness.

"Fox, I'm so sorry. I guess I just needed a good cry."

Her words laced with good- humored laughter.

Fox took that a sign to pull away. Forcing a smile, he stood up and patted her head.

"Don't sweat it, Theresa. Just remember that, um, I'm always going to be here for you, okay?"

He tried to make his voice come off light, but he knew he failed. And when Theresa narrowed those gorgeous eyes of hers' thoughtfully, he knew that she hadn't missed his tone either.

"Fox...?"

"Hmmm?"

He quickly retreated across the room to the safety of Theresa's bed.

But he didn't count on Theresa following him. His eyes glued to the pale pink carpet, he watched her tiny feet draw closer and closer.

"Are you feeling okay tonight?"

"Uh, yeah, um, I'm fine, **_step-mommy_**."

__

Good one, Crane. THAT sounded convincing...

He raised his eyes, the resolve to act normally fluttering in his head. Theresa stood before him, hands on her hips, mischief gleaming in her eyes.

"Nicholas Crane, don't _even_ try to pull a load of B.S over on me. You've been acting **_weird_** all evening, even by your usual standards."

Her easy banter was all it took to bring him to his senses.

"Yeah, well, you'd be weird too if you grew up in this loony bin."

The mattress shifted lightly beneath him as Theresa lowered herself beside him, eyes on her sons' crib.

"Fox, you may have grown up here in this living hell, and you might have been born from their evilness, but you... you're not like them. You're **_better_** than them."

She turned her gaze to his, and softly smiled. She was nervous, Fox could tell, by the way her fingers absently picked at a loose thread on the comforter.

"Theresa, don't try and fool yourself, okay? I'm just like them. I'm one of them."

The warm light from the bedside lamp cast a glow on her hair, giving the appearance of a halo as she shook her head in disagreement.

"No, Fox, **_you_** don't try and fool **_yourself_**, okay? You are worth a million of them, and then some. You are **_better_**, okay?" 

Her words were husky with emotion.

And for a moment, Fox allowed himself to buy into the emotion.

Until he felt her warmth leave his side.

"And besides, Foxy, you didn't grow up here, remember? You grew up in boarding school."

Her back to him, her giggles trailed across the room as she walked back to the crib.

"Ethan's asleep."

"Which means that his mommy can finally go to sleep."

Fox stood from the bed and walked towards the door.

"Good night, my wickedly gorgeous step mother."

Theresa turned around and grinned at him.

"Good night, Fox. Thank you for letting me cry."

She took a step towards him, then seemed to think better of it. He raised his hand in farewell, then started to shut the door behind him.

"Oh, Fox?"

Her voice stopped him in his tracks. Eagerly, _hopefully_, he turned back in to the room.

Suddenly, she was before him, her hands on his shoulders. 

Her mouth descending upon his.

He closed his eyes, trying to memorize this moment.

The way her hair danced across his chin.

Her light smell, a mix of baby powder and coconut.

His heart pounding, legs trembling.

Until he felt her lips brush his cheek.

She pulled away, tenderness in her eyes.

Her hands lingering on his shoulders.

"I meant every word I told you tonight, Fox. You are better than your family. Please believe me."

"Thanks, Resa."

He stepped away and pulled the door closed tightly behind him.

"Oh, _GOD_," he muttered under his breath, dropping to the floor in frustration.

Was this what being in love was like? Every nerve in your body going haywire? Leaping at the chance to spend just one _second_ with the other person? Listening to them cry over the person that _they_ loved?

Fox couldn't be too sure. He thought falling in love would be... different. Calmer. Softer.

Not so crazy like.

But then again, Fox had also been certain that he would never fall in love.

Maybe...

Maybe this was just lust.

Theresa was the one woman he could never have. Not only was she in love with Ethan, his older brother, but she was also married to his father.

Lust could definitely be a viable option in this scenario.

The image of Theresa nervously nibbling on her lower lip flashed through Fox's head, causing his entire body to grow warm. 

"That's it!" 

He knew what he had to do, to get over this whole lust thing.

If it was even lust...

Fox leapt to his feet, and brought a fist down on Theresa's door gently. He knocked several times before the door swung open, Theresa standing before him, looking at him in confusion.

"Fox, what are-"

Without uttering a word, he grabbed her arms and pulled her to him, almost roughly. Theresa let out an involuntary gasp as her body molded against his, her eyes probing his, wanting answers.

Bending his head down, Fox raised a hand to her face, and brushed back a stray hair falling across her face. At his touch, Theresa's eyes closed, and she let out a low sigh.

His lips' meeting hers was nothing short of extraordinary. Gentle at first, then teasing.

Theresa wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him closer, her hands tangling in his hair.

"Oh, Lord," he breathed against her mouth, tightening his grip around her and lifting her a few inches off the ground.

Her response was to part his lips with her tongue, and to begin a minor assault on his mouth.

As he backed them into Theresa's bedroom, a solitary thought floated into Fox's mind.

__

This is definitely not lust.


	3. Last night was beautiful

Part Two

****

Theresa

I think your heart can only stand so much pain before it begins to break.

It starts off a small tear, easily mended with a comforting word or a stolen glance. But with each new devastation that occurs in life, the rip grows larger and larger, until it is completely unable to be healed.

All that remains after the heart is broken is two separate pieces, one piece bitter, the other piece longing.

My heart began to break the day of my first wedding to Ethan, as Ivy drove her BMW into the church where we stood pledging our vows to one another. Hatred in her eyes, directed towards me, as she shoved the tabloid in our faces, the written words declaring me the villain Ethan' s parentage scandal.

It was a little rip, but slowly it began to tear even more when I saw the sorrow and the disbelief in Ethan's eyes.

My heart began to break that day, and now, nearly two years later, all that remains is the spoken of two-pieces.

One piece is bitter.

Bitter towards Ivy, for starting the misery with such a ludicrous accusation.

Bitter towards my husband, Julian, for taking away the little innocence I still possessed.

Bitter towards Gwen, for fighting dirty and still coming out on top.

Bitter towards Ethan, for not being true to his own heart.

But most of all, I'm bitter towards myself, for keeping secrets and truths from those most deserving of what I knew.

The other piece is longing.

Longing for the girl I used to be, so spunky and filled with life.

Longing for my son, and the mother that I wish I could be to him.

Longing for Ethan, and the romance we shared.

But most of all, I'm longing for love. The way you first feel when you fall in love... 

The tingly feeling washing over you as your eyes first meet theirs...

The butterflies in your stomach intensifying with each step they take, bringing them closer to...

The unspoken words exchanged with a single glance... a simple caress... a stolen kiss.

And then, the way you feel when you know you are head over heels in love... 

Nothing can get to you.

The world around you is brighter, livelier.

The freedom washing over you, knowing that you aren't the only one feeling these things.

Sharing your life, you **_soul_** with that one person.

But once your heart breaks...

Your eyes open, and you view everything that surrounds you at face value.

You see the ugliness that was previously concealed.

You feel the feelings that were previously suppressed.

Despair.

Anger.

Hatred.

Loneliness.

Self- loathing.

And the only thing to find solace in is lying in bed, covers drawn tightly about you, curtains blocking out the newly dulled world.

But, you can't often seek that solace once your heart has broken.

There is a reality that you have to face.

Life around you is still happening, no matter how much you want to hide from it.

There is still a company that needs to be run. A family collapsing in shambles, with nothing that can be done. Well meaning friends, caught up in battles of their own.

A kind stranger, slowly becoming a treasured confidante.

A beautiful baby boy, who can ease all pain with a sigh of contentment. Who knows only one person, his mother, and loves her unconditionally.

Life goes on.

**__**

I go on.

And you realize that some good comes from having a broken heart.

You become stronger than you ever were before. You push past the pain and misery, and your strength becomes more prevalent each passing day.

Time passes more quickly than ever.

And then, one morning, you wake up, realize things aren't as bad as you thought, and you can almost forget that there was a time that you were truly happy.

* * *

Sunlight filtered into Theresa's bedroom through the lacy curtains adorning the windows, rousing Theresa from her deep sleep. A soft sigh came from her lips, and she shifted in her bed, reaching out for her new- found lover.

Her hands grasped only satin.

Theresa slowly opened her eyes, dread filling her being to the depths of its core.

__

He used me 

Preyed upon my neediness

But I wanted him.

I now live up to my reputation...

First there was Ethan...

Followed by Julian…

And now...

The true heir.

I am the Crane Whore.

And not even I can deny myself that title.

She let out a soft groan, realizing just what she had done.

Her longing had once before led to her destruction.

And now it seemed, she was doomed for a repeat.

Her feet swung to meet the ground, and she padded across the room to her sons' crib.

A note lay in place of Little Ethan.

Picking it up, Theresa's heart fluttered lightly as she recognized the messy scrawl.

__

Resa,

You looked so peaceful in your sleep that I didn't have the heart to wake you. Little Ethan, of course, was already awake, happily discovering that he has fingers, and what fingers are there for. I'm taking him to the kitchen for some gourmet grub, and then into town, where I plan on spoiling him rotten. I'll have my cell on me, if you'd like to meet up for lunch or something.

Fox

PS... Last night was beautiful. Thank you.

Relief filled Theresa as her eyes skimmed the letter a second time, and then a third.

Perhaps she had been too hasty in her judgement of Fox.

She folded the note, and opened her bureau, placing the note beneath a pile of socks, well hidden from the probing eyes of the Crane mansion staff. 

__

With a single note, he has altered my destiny.

With a simple gesture, he has opened my eyes.

With a thoughtful action, he has touched my soul.

And happiness is within my reach.

With shaky legs, Theresa made her way to the bathroom and collapsed onto the ledge of the bathtub. She turned the water on, extra hot, steam billowing into soft wisps around the room. For the first time since moving into the Crane mansion, Theresa noticed that the lighting in the room cast a warm, almost shimmery glow, reflected throughout the room on small mirrors that lined the walls. She basked in the luminous beauty, slightly disturbed for never noticing this before.

Until...

"Oh, no."

Her head dropped to her hands, and an ironic laughed passed her lips.

She was falling in love, and had not realized it until this moment.

The signs had all been there...

The giddiness she felt whenever she thought of him...

The butterflies kicking to life whenever she heard his name...

The sweaty palms and trembling knees whenever he entered a room...

The melancholy that filled her whenever he left.

She was falling in love with Fox, more and more each passing day.

Her strength was feeding of this love, rebuilding her, making her more whole.

She had been so quick to dismiss these feelings...

Because these were the feelings that she had only ever felt for Ethan.

**__**

Still felt for Ethan.

This new realization swept over her as she lay back in the tub, jasmine scented bubbles up to her chin.

Happiness was almost in her reach.

Almost.

But she would never be able to take hold of it.

Her broken heart, the two separate pieces, had begun to heal.

But the two pieces were healing as separate entities.

Each piece was in love with a man.

Her heart as a whole was in love with two men.

Brothers.

One married.

One loving only himself.

__

Why must you always destroy yourself, Theresa? **WHY**?

Ethan loved her, of that she was sure of. He might be married to that prissy, lying bitch, Gwen, but Theresa knew without a doubt that Ethan loved her.

Fox on the other hand...

Fox loved to _make love_ to women. But to actually **love** one...

Never.

He cared for her.

Theresa knew that.

And he was definitely attracted to her. He acted on his attraction last night.

But as for actually loving her?

There was no way that could happen.

Fox Crane wasn't capable of loving someone other than himself.

He was better than his parents, but their careless neglect had molded him into the man he was today.

Theresa felt her newly recovered happiness slipping away, joining the steam twisting and swirling above her. Helpless to reclaim it, she ignored it, and climbed out of the bathtub, to begin her morning rituals.

Theresa Crane knew at that moment happiness would never be hers. 

Because happiness could never be found from a man who wasn't yours to have.

* * *

With one last sweep of her pale lipstick, Theresa was ready for the day.

And ready to meet Fox for lunch.

He, after all, had laid the offer on the table.

And he had her son in his possession at that moment.

Her one joy.

__

I can do this, I can do this…

Her new mantra rang through her head as she steeled back her shoulders, determination washing over her.

She **_COULD _**do this.

Her hand grasped the doorknob, turning, throwing open the door.

Her body collided with another.

"Theresa."

The familiar voice deep, raspy with emotion, causing goose bumps to rise on her arms.

The tingly feeling in her stomach returned as she looked up at her visitor, her eyes meeting his.

And then his hand was brushing lightly against her cheek, pushing away a stray strand of hair, and she knew.

There was no way in hell she could do this.


End file.
